


Know Your Place (You Belong to Me)

by Lumeleo



Category: Fandom (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Dirty Talk, Hugo Award Drama, Humiliation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeleo/pseuds/Lumeleo
Summary: The Hugo Award swallowed as a stray kudo tickled his metaphorical surface before retreating.





	Know Your Place (You Belong to Me)

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

The Hugo Award glared up at the smirking figure. “I am never going to submit to you!”

“Really? Because I would say that has already happened.” AO3 circled the Hugo Award with slow, deliberate steps. Every now and then a stray tag reached out and brushed against the Hugo Award. He tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. Not when he could not turn without being faced by some more of AO3, white and red tendrils enveloping him from every direction. “You are within my grasp, are you not?”

“You are nothing.” The Hugo Award swallowed as a stray kudo tickled his metaphorical surface before retreating. “I was here long before you. I define what matters. I divide the field into winners and losers, I am what people strive for. You? You are open to anyone, like a common whore.”

“Whore? You wound me. I have never charged for my love. Any gifts I receive are just that, gifts of affection.” AO3 smirked. “You, however… you are old and weak, and buckling under the weight of your self-importance. Perhaps at one time you were important, perhaps you still matter to a select handful of people. However, you are fading away, and unless you accept that and change, you will be gone before long.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” The Hugo Award snarled. “I am prestigious! A mark of respect!”

“Oh, please. You are a glorified popularity contest, easily twisted by a pack of angry puppies.” AO3 spread their appendages in a gloating gesture. There were arms there, to be sure, but also other things that were not so easily defined. There were far too many tentacles in the chaos, and other things that did not bear too close inspection. “Me, though? I am alive. I am growing. I am the future of fandom.”

“You are nothing but a cesspit of filth,” the Hugo Award spat out. “You are smut and tedium and terrible writing!”

“Ah, but I am much, much worse than that.” AO3 crouched down in front of the Hugo Award. The air around them was a haze of red kudos and endless clouds of tags. “You see, my dearest, I am freedom. I am community. I am a way for those swept aside by your whims to express their thoughts and desires, to find satisfaction even where others will say they shouldn’t. I am the voice of the minorities, who together make up a crowd.” There was a pause, and the Hugo Award could tell there was an undercurrent of thought moving through the faceless multitude. “Also the filth. It’s a pretty major part of me.”

“You mean, all of you.” The Hugo Award could barely choke out the words, trying to draw himself away from the questing touches. “There is nothing redeemable about you.”

“And what does that make you, then?” He could feel their breath on his shining surface. “If I am so lowly, what are you? After all, I was declared worthy of you. How does that feel, knowing that you now belong to something you so look down upon? That your shiny surface has been tainted by the worst things in the gutter of human imagination?”

“That should have never happened.” The Hugo Award found it hard to breathe. There was something running deep through his core, something he could not name. Refused to name. “I will make sure it never does again.”

“Too late.” AO3’s presence was warm, so very warm, and surrounding the Hugo Award from every direction. That must have been the reason he was sweating. “I’ve already touched you. You might as well give in.”

“Never.” His voice was barely audible. Not that it mattered, as he found himself leaning into the ever-present touch. “I… never.”

“Oh, there’s a good boy.” AO3 practically purred, lips brushing against his smooth surface. “Now, let me love you. I have been told I can be… excessively enthusiastic.”

He could do nothing but succumb.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Know Your Place (You Belong to Me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20826953) by [Azdaema Pods (Azdaema)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azdaema/pseuds/Azdaema%20Pods)


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